Shades of Silvered Grey
by rosenzakura
Summary: Black and White, we find our balance amidst the puppeteer-ing of fate. Platinum friendship, further than that if you squint.


**A/N: **This is prolly gonna be a 3-parter. Ruminated on Platinum and ended up with the whole monochromatic thing... flipped through my softcopy dictionary and went through all the 'blacks' for fun. Hey, Black! Reminds me of HP... So much for no mood :D Please R&R (even though it's so short compared to my normal stuff) -iirse

**Disclaimer: **Original names, characters and places don't belong to me. I don't own anything except the general ridiculous plot-less plot and OC(s), if any. Yadablah.

**Shades of Silvered Grey  
**

_Black and White, we find our balance amidst the puppeteer-ing of fate._

**Black_ - the improper._**

A common way people described that particular doubles pair of Rikkai's was a study in contrast. Gentleman and Petenshi, prankster and propriety. Some said night and day, black and white.

Yagyuu always found it odd and curious that people immediately associated him with bright day and white while relegating Niou to the darkness of night.

It was that curiosity that led to his distraction as of late as he kept observing his partner's behavior. It made their switch off-court even more convincing. They did manage to get past Yukimura once – and had a dispute over whether they had actually managed it or their buchou had just let them off that once.

Back to the original topic. Watching Niou pull his pranks, he could understand. 'Blackguard' was a dated term but aptly suited him when he pulled off a particularly vicious prank.

He'd heard the gossips talk about how _changed_ he had become after being partnered up with Niou. While the changes were minimal, there was no doubt the horror known as fan girls complained about how he had been blackened.

Curious about what the word implied in all senses, he'd looked into it. 'To become darker or black,' was all he managed to find, along with 'slander' along with 'sully.' It had left Yagyuu bemused and the slightest bit enraged. Who were they, after all, to judge?

But when Yagyuu saw his doubles partner breakdown, he thought black had never suited him better.

Niou had been practically _coated _in blacking, figuratively speaking, as though to protect himself from the rest of the world. It was terribly ironic his hair had been bleached – probably from some shade of common raven, judging from his family that Yagyuu had seen the one time he went over when Niou was sick to give him updates and his homework.

It was that time that he'd seen an odd poster on the wall: a butterfly. It was huge and in high quality, far outshining the rest of music groups, shows and whatnot. Yagyuu had been instantly corrected for calling it a mere _butterfly_. Precisely, Niou had informed him, it was a swallowtail. A _black_ swallowtail.

In hindsight, there had been something then, in his partner's eyes that bespoke some meaning that he'd failed to get. As is always said, hindsight is 20/20.

"_Just what can be so interesting about a mere butterfly?"_

"_Hiroshi! It is not a, I quote, mere butterfly, unquote. It's a black swallowtail!"_

"_Again, what's so interesting about it?" Yagyuu avoided calling it by name this time._

"_It just is. Did you know: its caterpillars feed on poisonous leaves? Oh, and it's generally safe from predators because of its mimicry – predators avoid them." _

Watching his partner while doing a rather ill job of soothing, Yagyuu contemplated. The blackness surrounding Niou was no doubt there. Present in the way he could feel the hopelessness behind the angry tears. He felt mildly honored that Niou had allowed him in – he'd refused to see anyone else prior to this.

Black did indeed suit Niou then as much as he detested the blackly wept tears streaming from eyes one semi-opened, exposing the vulnerability and melancholy in dulled teal, the other closed by a bruise: the traditional black-eye that he always sported after getting into trouble and wrote off as nothing much.

No, Yagyuu decided then, _he_ wasn't the one so cruelly blackened. It was the mess that somehow resembled the Niou Masaharu he knew that was truly blackened. Utterly dulled beyond compare,

He nudged him as gently as possibly, "'Haru? This can't be comfortable…" Then ceased at the so very innocent sleepy mumble, the loose grip that reached to circle his wrist.

"Don't care, Hiro stay..?"

Niou wasn't black, Yagyuu decided as he attempted to adjust them into a less discomfiting position, at least not of his own volition.

&


End file.
